Opening Doors
by sciathan file
Summary: Haruhi recieves an invitation to a dinner that she finds she can't refuse. [TamakixHaruhi]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ouran, I'm just a poor starving college student who can only cook pasta.

**Spoilers:** Tamaki's background. And, due to the characterization of a certain character in here, this is specifically based of the **_manga_** canon and not the _**anime** _canon.

First and foremost, however, elvaron gets a thousand elaborately worded (just think, a thousand Tamaki speeches…oh noes!) worth of thanks for betaing this hulking monolith of fic. Also, this fic totally goes out to her…because she is the one who encouraged me not to treat Tamaki as I normally do.

This is a one-shot…but one that amounts to some 35 pages. Thus, it has been separated into two chapters so that it is more reader friendly.

**Opening Doors**

** sciathan file**

He glanced up from his paperwork briefly as the door opened and closed again too discreetly to have been anyone who actually worked for him.

Unannounced, with all semblance of formality left at the door, a woman walked in, crossed the inordinate amount of glittering distance between the door and the overly large desk, set her briefcase down on the floor and slumped down in the client's chair. In one final act of what anyone else would have perceived as insolent liberty, she crossed her arms at the edge of the desk and set her head upon them, glowering slightly at the smirking figure her entrance had interrupted mid-finance report.

Most would not so much as dare to display one unpolished button when they entered this particular office, let alone display such an unpolished and aloof manner as this woman possessed. For, as it was quite well known among certain circles, the head of the Ootori group had an eye for flaws and could, with one ironically refreshing smile, exploit each one revealed to its fullest.

However, when the head of the Ootori group was in the presence of one of the two people who could all too easily see his own flaws, artifice mattered very little to him.

It was, essentially, another game to be played – an intimate, _mostly_ harmless, and only a semi-strategic game – but a game nonetheless. It was a fact simply understood between both the players and had by now dwindled into familiar sets of almost scripted actions.

And, it was understood – much more clearly by one than the other – that they both assumed that the other was equally dangerous and, by virtue of that, there was a strange sort of mutual respect between the two of them.

So, rather than any traditional sort of acknowledgement…or even a greeting…the man behind the desk continued to nonchalantly flip through his stack of papers without acknowledging the woman in the least. Of course, the aforementioned woman also made no effort whatsoever to indicate that she actually had any particular reason for being there and made no apology for barging in.

Between them, pleasantries were optional and the reason for the visit was implicitly understood by both of them from the beginning. They were merely old friends who just treated each other like strangers out of habit. And, strangely, this behavior only occurred in private.

A light lit up on the phone. The man pressed a button on the machine with practiced ease, not pausing to look up from his paper work. The voice of his anxious sounding secretary, small and tinny through the speaker, stated uncertainly, "Ootori-sama…Fujioka-san has arrived – uh, I believe it was something about contracts? – She has no appointment…ah, until tomorrow…and I seem to have unfortunately lost sight of what has happened to her…"

"Fortunately," he replied back, amusement at her hesitation a vague nuance in his voice, "I seem to have found her for you."

There was a startled reply and a muttered apology before there was a slight click of the speaker turning off.

"Actually, I believe _I_ found _you_, Senpai," Haruhi said flatly, not so much as moving from her relaxed posture.

He returned to his papers, fingering through them and seemingly reading their contents thoroughly, not so much as answering her. Neither seemed the least bit bothered by the lack response from the other.

Placing the last page of the thick packet down on the desk, he signed his signature to it and then pushed the entire neatly aligned stack towards her. She eyed it, registering that it was a contract regarding a minor merger that she had drafted for the Ootori group the previous week.

She blinked up at him. He looked back, unfazed.

"I see you look the part of the lawyer today."

Seemingly irrelevant conversation prior to the initial meaningful discussion was already an established feature of these rare exchanges, but she wore, rather than her still rather androgynous everyday clothes, a smart suit, and had obviously just come from court.

"I think Hikaru and Kaoru bribe my landlady in order to sneak these into my closet."

"Which one designed this one?" It was a small point, polite to put in.

She however merely answered, "Hikaru…it has princess seams in the jacket," Her voice had a touch of endearing annoyance in it, "I think it's his idea of a joke."

Kyouya smiled politely before deciding to broach the real subject matter at hand.

"You are aware that our actual appointment is scheduled for tomorrow, I suppose."

Haruhi opened her mouth to protest or at least quip that she knew that, knowing him, it would probably cost her something to see him on any terms besides business.

But he preempted her complaints.

"But since you have never had any issues concerning your work – "

"- and you should relate."

"-I would assume that this is of a personal nature."

Haruhi merely sighed, signaling a confirmation that Kyouya didn't need in the first place. Putting the pretense of his work aside, he turned to face her, casually folding his hands in front of him and reclining in his chair.

"Or should I simply ask…what has he done now?"

But, as usual, she didn't see fit to actually answer one of his rare direct questions, rather she just answered with a question of her own.

Lifting her head and glancing out the window she wondered out loud, "Why on earth does he always insist on elevating every single person he knows to the level of some beloved member of his family?"

Kyouya's amusement was palpable. He merely stated, "I became a god on the second day I knew him," and despite the look of credulous annoyance he received, he refused to elaborate.

She sighed and sank back down and said, "He's so troublesome that he doesn't want to recognize when people actually want nothing to do with him…of course, he probably thinks that everyone can't help but have many things to do with him."

"It's not as if this is a surprise to you."

"No."

"I actually thought that you quite liked that aspect of Tamaki."

She frowned at him and stated simply, "It's not as if I don't like it – well, most of the time – but…sometimes it would be better for him to leave some of them be."

Kyouya looked thoughtful for a moment, contemplating her words and the sudden visit. Considering all that had happened, it actually surprised him a little to think that she still would go out of her way to come and inquire about Tamaki's quirks. But then again, it _was_ Haruhi, and the only one who didn't realize the extent to which Haruhi understood Tamaki was…Haruhi herself.

At the thought, he smirked in amusement, as she frowned and meticulously clipped together his copy of the contract he had given her and put it into a thick manila envelope that contained one of multiple sets of hardcopies of the files.

"You could simply tell him that yourself," Kyouya said pointedly.

She gave him a look that stated that they both knew very well how he would react to _that_. Both knew very well that it was really in both of their interests to keep the melodramatics at as normal of a level as possible. Thus, there was only one response Kyouya could possibly give her.

Shrugging, he moved to grab another stack of documents that needed his perusal before saying, "Tamaki is Tamaki."

With an odd expression on her face she turned towards the window and answered, "Yes, and I hope he always is. But sometimes I wish he wouldn't be _so_, well, _Tamaki._"

Kyouya leaned forward, balancing his chin on one elbow on his desk.

"So now we have arrived back to my earlier question, what exactly did that idiot do _now?_"

She pursed her lips and leaned back into the expensive leather chair.

"Surprisingly, it hasn't actually been him doing anything this time."

"That _is_ rather surprising."

"He's just allowing other people to do things to _him_."

"That," he said, once again beginning to rifle through the impossibly large amounts of paper that formed his chosen reading material, " is hardly surprising."

"You see," she took a deep breath, as if she was about to give her closing address to a judge, "I've been invited to dinner at the Suou Mansion."

For a brief second, Kyouya found that he had been caught utterly off guard. One dinner was hardly something that Haruhi would seek (or hazard, in her terms) his advice for. He knew for certain that Tamaki had already invited her for dinner more than a few times. The differences in class were something she noticed but took in stride anyways. In all, Kyouya had not seen any cause for alarm in the statement whatsoever.

He told her so.

"I don't see why that will be a problem. Yuzuru-san probably requested it. It only means that you will have to deal with two, perhaps three, fathers again for an evening."

Haruhi slumped down on the desk again, utterly unconscious of the fact that her expensive jacket was quickly becoming rumpled.

"It was not Yuzuru-san who invited me…and the invitation was not to Tamaki's mansion."

Suddenly the entirety of what Haruhi had been relating to him was clear and the sudden visit did not seem so odd at all. He had come to her to ask her about an area that everyone knew Tamaki was completely blind in.

But, her questions were not, indeed, directly about Tamaki at all.

"I presume that Tamaki didn't receive the same…_invitation_, then."

Haruhi didn't meet his eyes.

"I haven't asked him yet, but it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he didn't and I certainly haven't heard anything about it. That most likely means that he hasn't. All that considered.…I'm not sure I'll go."

Kyouya answered her with unhesitating certainty, "You should and you will."

Again, she blinked up at him, a small bit of annoyance in her eyes that told him that, despite her words she had already arrived at the same conclusion.

"Kyouya-senpai," she said, carefully, meeting his unwavering gaze, "Why does he allow her to say and do things like that to him? I would hate someone like that."

"She _is_ his revered grandmother."

Haruhi took note of his careful word choice and even more careful tone. The question was more rhetorical than one that had been actually seeking an answer. Between them the answers were understood.

"And you," Kyouya continued, holding her gaze, "are his beloved fiancé."

There was a lilt of amusement that colored his voice. At this, Haruhi simply frowned and quipped, "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

Still maintaining his incisive gaze, he casually used one finger to adjust the bridge of his glasses before saying impishly, "Haven't we been over this already, Haruhi?" He smiled at the look of annoyance that greeted his comment, "Tamaki is Tamaki."

"And Tamaki is almost as troublesome as you."

He ignored her and went on, as was their custom, "And because that idiot is the way he is," he looked at her with a look of seriousness that was not lost on her, "you will just have to be you."

She nodded slowly and cautiously at his words, trying to discern their enigmatic meaning. While they might be even in their Tamaki game, Haruhi had no idea that Kyouya could win the Haruhi game any day of the week against her. But, then again, the only person that he really considered a worthy opponent in that game was Tamaki.

"You're saying…" she said, slowly and carefully, deliberating upon each word. "that I should protect him?"

"It's obvious he is not going to do so himself."

Haruhi frowned at his words and stood up, taking her briefcase in one hand and trying to smooth out her wrinkled suit jacket with the other, looking back over at him. When she was certain that he had his attention, pretense of reading through the thick packet of documents aside, she responded quietly, "Tamaki is himself after all."

She had almost gone the entire distance to the door when Kyouya spoke up, "Oh, and Haruhi…I trust I'll still see you tomorrow before I go off to Berlin."

There was a curt, but wary, nod of affirmation on her part. However, she continued towards the door without so much as a verbal thank you or gesture to indicate she was departing. It was not as if the other party was expecting one, however.

Rather, when she clasped the handle to exit, she heard his voice intoning what she had initially expected it would, "I do hope you will not be charging your normal fees for tomorrow's consultation as fair exchange for the personal time you have used today."

Haruhi mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "rich bastard" and opened the door to leave the room, not bothering to acknowledge what her _friend_ had just said.

----------------------

Haruhi should really have known better than to open the door to anyone when she had an appointment of such a magnitude scheduled for later in the day. They inevitably did this to her every single time.

And, except for her last guest, everyone who arrived reeked of Kyouya's brand of…_help_.

Indeed, ironically, a knock at her door had interrupted the enormous stack of papers that were apart of the documents sent by the private Ootori courier in the morning as a follow-up to her business appointment with Kyouya. Since their delivery, she had been grumbling over every page and marking up various passages. And, when she had heard the doorbell, still in sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt, she opened the door only to be rushed by identical blurs carrying what seemed to be…_suitcases…?_

As each streaked by her, Haruhi could feel herself reluctantly pulled from her feet as they linked arms with her and lurched her forward with their combined enthusiastic momentum.

She realized, belatedly and in an entirely confused manner, that the table was right in the center of the path that she was currently hurtling along. The practical voice that often saved her in situations that required a healthy dose of self-preservation – events perhaps solely linked to the former members of the Host Club – simply told her that the only thing she could do was brace herself for the impact.

However the expected painful crash never came. Instead, she collided with a much softer object…well, softer than a table, at least. Looking up, she discovered the stoic and impassive face of Mori before turning to see the twins in two heaps at either side of the heavy wooden table, the things that she had now certainly determined to be suitcases haphazardly thrown, and pages of the Ootori Group contracts she had been reading floating down like snow in every direction.

In all, the day looked as if it would be nothing short of an unmitigated disaster.

And, one that had the help of Kyouya's intervention at that…So it was liable to be quite an _expensive_ disaster, as well.

Once he was certain that she had sustained no injury from her unexpected trip, Mori released her and she looked around, contemplating exactly what they all were there to actually _do_. However, her train of thought was interrupted by a very familiar intonation.

"Haru-chan! We brought you cake!"

At least that answered her question for one of the four people assembled. Frowning, she looked from one face to the next. One thing, at least was clear, their expressions (with the exception of Mori's, but he was, as always, the notable exception) were all in deadly earnest about _whatever_ they intended to do. Haruhi blinked at them for a moment before offering a stilted thank you to them for the cake and shuffling away to the kitchen to put it away for the time being.

When she had returned, bringing a tray of hastily brewed tea, they were all more or less seated at the table and – rather suspiciously – all appeared to have halted mid conversation.

Setting the tray down, she picked up the pile of contracts that someone – most likely Kaoru or Mori – had gathered together again. She glanced at them with an annoyed frown on her face, thinking that it would really be bothersome to reorder all of them before she returned them to Kyouya. However, the image of his glasses glinting as he shifted all of the papers into their proper order with one hand while making seemingly innocuous entries on his accounting software with the other hand reminded her that it would be necessary to do so.

She shivered, wondering just how expensive his help would end up being.

Sitting down, Haruhi spied the guilty faces of her friends before sighing and saying, "I know Kyouya-senpai sent you all here."

With the exception of Mori – who _blinked_ – every one of them shifted in their seats and tried to look everywhere but at her.

It was Hikaru who broke the silence, hooking his arm behind his head and laughing nervously before saying, "We only had to come from a fashion show in Milan-"

"- but it's not a long flight when we take our private jet."

Haruhi didn't think she'd ever get use to the sheer excess that all of them indulged so readily in.

Hunny looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, "We only had to push back out appointment with the JSDF for a week."

Mori grunted in agreement.

So the entire country's defense was being held up due to this. What _had_ Kyouya told them all? …And, of course not a single one of them acted as if it was any sort of inconvenience at all. At this realization, Haruhi could only sigh and think, _once a rich bastard…always a rich bastard_.

Rather than verbalizing this out loud for the umpteenth time, Haruhi, in her usual deadpan manner, stated that she would now serve the cake. When she returned again the same abrupt end to a seemingly clandestine conversation occurred again. They each received their slice of cake with a word of thanks and then were strangely quiet.

Even though the period of almost silence might be explained away merely by the fact that they were eating, the lingering quiet was a strange phenomenon for the assembled party. The Hitachiin twins seemed to latch onto this unnatural occurrence and instead attempted to create as much noise as possible by scraping their eating utensils against their plates as loudly as possible as they inhaled their slices of cake at the fastest speed possible.

Haruhi had only finished half of her own slice of cake and still had the majority of the strawberries that had adorned the expensive western dessert (with the exception of the one decorating Hunny's cake, which had been promptly eaten when he had received it) left to consume.

However, when the twins began giving each other furtive looks out of the corners of their eyes, a familiar alarm bell began to go off in Haruhi's mind, and it only clanged louder when the two of them scooted over and each draped an arm on her shoulders.

For a moment she wished that Tamaki was there simply so that he could draw their attention away from her. However, in his absence, she merely ignored them both and proceeded to put a large strawberry in her mouth.

"Haruhi!" They intoned in unison, voices dripping with deceptive sweetness.

"We were wondering – "

"If you had something to wear for your _event_ tonight?"

They finished their little display with an evil snicker.

It wasn't even necessary to ask how on earth they had found about the…"event."

Haruhi merely blinked and realized that, amidst the hustle and bustle of work in the last three days and her initial qualms over her appointment at the Suou Mansion in the evening, she needed to wear something that would be suitable for rich people.

Something that she most likely did not even own.

All for of the males that were gathered around the table exchanged knowing glances and nodded.

Hikaru and Kaoru said in the same tone of mock disappointment, "This girl…"

With a burst of seemingly impossible speed, both Kaoru and Hikaru sprung up and seized the discarded suitcases, Mori and Hunny acting in tandem as impromptu assistants. Haruhi stared dumbfounded as they erected and clothed two mannequins and then performed a strange and complicated exchange that ended in the designs being covered with showy cloths to hide them.

Finally, grinning mischievously, they all stared at her.

Haruhi blinked at them. They smiled back, expectantly.

She sighed in defeat and finally asked, "Now what?"

The twins gave her that hauntingly familiar _look_ and whipped out hats from their suitcases – there was an entirely discomforting feeling of _déjà vu_.

Their faces produced identical smirks and they said, each wagging a finger in her direction, "Now it's time for the 'Which one is Hikaru-kun game two!'"

Haruhi stared before moving to pick up the cake plates in an act of proactive evasive cleaning. However, looking around she noticed that Hunny and Mori had conveniently barred all her possible avenues of escape.

The smirks on the faces of the twins had taken on a quality that was nothing short of demonic. She fought the urge to run away and avoid the trouble that was sure to come.

As usual, they knew just how to preempt her.

There was a flurry of sheets being dramatically thrown off of mannequins and both of them said – with great relish – "Haruhi, guess which one is Hikaru's design!"

_Oh_, she thought looking at them, _is that all…_

With no theatrics whatsoever she pointed to the right most one – spying the princess seams in the dark fabric. Hikaru and Kaoru looked at each other in vague shock.

"That girl…is not human."

Hikaru looked at her and said, annoyed, "How do you do that?"

The other three in the room nodded at her in rapt interest.

Haruhi figured it was time to give them a taste of their own medicine. So, flashing them one of the winning smiles that she had cultivated for her customers back in her hosting days, she said cheerfully, "It's a secret."

Rather than the tide of annoyance that usually erupted from her more than spoiled friends, everyone – again with the exception of Mori – gave exclamations as to her level of cuteness.

She could, in fact, only sigh as they latched onto her and praised her. After this had continued for longer than she liked, she finally stated, "so now what?"

Only then did they seem to remember that they had some odd semblance of a mission to perform.

"Mori-senpai! Hunny-senpai!" stated Hikaru imperiously, fulfilling the position of commander in Tamaki's absence, "We need to decide which design is most fitting for Haruhi's dinner engagement."

Hunny looked up at them briefly, "I thought Kyo-chan assigned that to you."

They exchanged knowing glances and shrugged.

"We got bored and couldn't decide."

After a moment, Mori pointed to one of them – a simple black gown with a purple wrap – and said simply, "elegant."

There was a shocked silence that followed the pronouncement, before the twins unquestioningly dismantled and stowed the other mannequin away in one of the suitcases.

Hunny looked over the remaining dress and said, "Haru-chan will definitely look cute in this!"

Haruhi could feel a headache coming on and muttered a very unenthusiastic, "Thanks…"

Unexpectedly, Hikaru let out an annoyed sounding noise and reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and pulled out what looked like a wad of large bills, before shoving them into Kaoru's hand.

Kaoru smiled and took them without comment.

Hikaru mumbled something to the effect of, "Next time I'll win the bet."

Noting this strange exchange, Haruhi noted that the chosen dress lacked Hikaru's characteristic princess seams and laughed.

Hikaru glowered at her while the others looked on with a little confusion.

"You guys never change."

"No," mumbled Hikaru, "but if _you_ don't change, Kyouya's going to make us his slaves for the rest of eternity."

At this comment the atmosphere of the room grew considerably darker, leaving Haruhi to wonder exactly _what_ Kyouya had done to get them all to come. It was more than vaguely unnerving.

In fact, she was glad that the courier had assured her just this morning that Kyouya was safely out of the country.

Thinking it would be best to cooperate in order to save them from whatever threat they were working against – she could sympathize with them, having essentially been in Kyouya's debt for the entirety of two years of her life – she decided to be uncharacteristically cooperative during their attempts to dress her up.

Suddenly, somewhere between foundation and eye shadow, she asked, "Have any of you actually met Tamaki's grandmother?"

There was a sort of awkward silence that descended over the room. Haruhi realized that this was probably the exact thing that they had been avoiding discussing with her.

At last Hunny ventured, "I think Kyo-chan is the only one who has been introduced to her…but that was at a business dinner."

"Our family businesses don't overlap with Tamaki's family's for the most part," added Kaoru, indicating the assembled members, "Even Kyouya-senpai has only been introduced to her but hasn't had any extensive business dealings with her directly. So, we can't tell you much about her as a person….besides the obvious."

"Sorry, Haru-chan," concluded Hunny almost tearfully.

"It's alright," she said, giving them a smile, "I'll simply have to get to know her on my own."

They all nodded and, much to her dismay, pulled her into a large, supportive hug. She never quite got used to being squeezed by far too many arms from far too many different directions at one time.

"Haru-chan will just need to take care of Tama-chan for us," said Hunny, finally, a glimpse of something quite beyond his usual cuteness flashing behind his words.

She nodded at them realizing that they had all entrusted him solely to her and, although it had taken her years to truly understand it, she knew exactly how much faith it took for them to entrust someone that important to _anyone_.

As if he had some ability to read her thoughts, at that moment, Tamaki came barreling through her apartment's door, without so much as knocking, while shouting, "Haruhi! I have come to take you to your desired destination in luxurious style, virtually unknown to Commoners!"

He walked in, a package under his arm, and saw her in the dress and make-up and _then_ registered that she was not alone in said dress and make-up…and, sadly, he seemed particularly torn as to which one he should act upon first.

"H-H-H-Haruhi," he began in lieu of a resolution to his inner conflict.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you tell me that everyone was coming to your apartment?"

"I didn't know…and then I suppose I forgot to call you."

He froze for a second and stuttered, "F-f-f-forgot?" before promptly crouching in her closet. Haruhi rolled here eyes as the rest of them merely watched their former club president with a sort of fond amusement.

The more cynical portion of Haruhi's brain wondered if all of them were just fondly pushing him onto her to deal with.

She heard distinct snatches of Tamaki mumbling phrases such as, "My cute Haruhi doesn't even remember her handsome fiancé and has fun without him..." and something like "Traitorous doppelgangers."

Behind her, another glance laced with meaning was exchanged between the other men. Silently, they all agreed that it was up to others – well, Haruhi - to complete the final stages of the plan.

They had done what they could.

"Haru-chan, Tama-chan, Takashi and I need to attend to our evening training sessions, but good luck!"

Mori grunted a good-bye at her before they both departed with Hunny perched on his shoulders.

The twins quickly followed them – one citing a mild case of boredom and the other a need to return to Milan for the last days of their fashion showcase. The last glimpse she caught of them as they left her apartment was identical conspiratorial winks.

Suddenly, following a few hasty goodbyes, Haruhi found herself alone with a pouting Tamaki.

Even if they _had_ left him and all his vaguely troublesome tendencies to her, she knew that he was the one she had chosen. Even though she still sometimes questioned this decision when she saw him crouching in the corner, or behind light posts…or pretty much any location. But, all annoying antics aside, Tamaki _was_ an unquestionably a good man and – when she was feeling in a particularly charitable mood – a very _admirable_ man.

Haruhi considered Kyouya's words again. Tamaki would always be Tamaki…and Haruhi secretly knew that she would change very little about that, and so she had decided she would help him to stay who he was.

But, to say that explicitly would have been rather troublesome…consequently, she would save it for a time when the Corner of Woe was not entirely adequate to contain all of his rather overflowing…_sentiment_.

Now was clearly not the time.

So, she instead decided to examine the round package that he had brought with him and promptly forgotten – in the "throes of his passion," or something like it – upon the table. It was, Haruhi discovered, a very high quality melon…the kind that cost half of her month's rent.

"Tamaki-senpai-" she said by force of habit, intending to ask the reason behind the melon. However, at this he immediately sprang up and began lamenting, "My cute Haruhi seems to have forgotten about every last bit of everything concerning her sinfully handsome fiancé today."

In attempt to make her feel guilty (she supposed), Tamaki put so much stress on the word "forgotten" that Haruhi thought that his voice might simply snap from the strain. However, he continued on, wagging a censuring finger and lecturing her as one might a dog, "Tamaki-kun, _K-U-N…"_

She fired back in an annoyed tone, "I know how to say it."

Tamaki, of course, completely ignored this and instead it seemed to fully dawn on him that she was dressed rather more…_feminine_…than usual. In order to show his apparent appreciation for this, he launched himself at her and began a hugging ordeal with more exuberance that Haruhi thought she could ever even think of possessing.

"Tamaki, you're going to wrinkle everything."

"And," he said, still ecstatically embracing her, "You've finally come to understand the sublime beauty in maintaining yourself as a pristine object to be worshipped!"

He broke off his speech and bent down into an extravagant bow before gallantly stating, "Ah, my beautiful goddess, I shall fall down in impassioned ecstasy at your alabaster altar."

Again, coming back to her conversation with Kyouya, Haruhi rationalized that deification by Tamaki was, at some point, inevitable.

Keeping this thought to herself, she practically moved to stop the current rumpling of her dress. She sighed at his enthusiasm and mumbled, "Actually, I don't want all of their work to become worthless because of you."

_Especially_, she added in her head,_ because they did it _for_ you._

Tamaki, swept up in his own rose adorned world, failed to take notice of this and was still spouting something about porcelain love goddesses who ruled from ivory towers when Haruhi interrupted and asked pointedly, "Why did you bring a melon?"

He halted mid purple prose and looked thoughtful.

"I thought," he said after a rare silent pause, "Grandmother might enjoy it."

The moment of ephemeral seriousness passed and was almost flawlessly replaced by his usual indomitable cheerfulness. He must have then realized what time it was because, with a swift glance at the clock, he flashed a surprised look at her and immediately began dragging her towards the door, scooping up the melon in his free hand as they passed the table. Having gone out of the door, which he then deftly locked with the key Haruhi had given him (rather the key that had been awarded to him in exchange for peace and quiet), Tamaki perkily stated, "Grandmother insists upon promptness – or so Father tells me – so we should definitely be off."

Haruhi could have told him that it appeared they were already going despite any protests on her part. However, she allowed herself to be pulled – barely managing to avoid tripping completely on her black-heeled shoes – with an air of resignation about her.

"Tamaki-kun," she managed to choke out, using what he considered to be the proper honorific to avoid any further melodrama, "How did you know to come and get me? And – " she tripped and almost fell before her tone altered considerably, "Let me walk on my own!"

He stopped before turning around to look at her apologetically, his grip relaxing considerably.

"Father told me that Grandmother wanted me to escort you there," he smiled brightly at her, "Isn't it a surprise that she's requested you personally?"

There was a completely innocent look about him that was visible despite the fact that the only light sources around them were the small bulbs of light that marked each apartment unit. Sometimes it seemed to Haruhi as if Tamaki was equipped with his own luminescence. Honestly, she wouldn't be in the least bit surprised if he had somehow managed to install something to make him glow as he did. But, she firmly reminded herself that now was not the time for such silly thoughts.

Feeling a bit guilty due to the expectant and innocent look on Tamaki's face, Haruhi responded, very quietly, "No. She invited me last week."

Instead of the expected doom and gloom, his smile became impossibly brighter and he said with pride, "Grandmother must think highly of my cute Haruhi to extend her such a personal invitation. I hear that she rarely does that for anyone."

He then gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek and bowed formally, with a ridiculous smile, and offered her his arm.

_Maybe_, she thought, _he really doesn't care_.

She took the proffered arm, more for the fact that he gently held her steady in her uncomfortable footwear than because she thought of it as a romantic gesture. Like this, they arrived without incident at the black limousine.

Once inside, they sat in comfortable silence for a while, Haruhi watching the world outside of the tinted windows and Tamaki watching Haruhi, his arm about her shoulders.

"There's something bothering you," he stated mildly after a few minutes had passed.

She turned her attention away from the window and back to him.

"Not really."

He seemed to study her for a moment, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. It was almost as if he knew to wait for something….Haruhi recognized it instantly as that annoying look that he had when he knew that he was right.

"But," she said carefully, not entirely sure that she wanted to ask the question, "Doesn't it ever bother you…how your grandmother treats you…?"

Tamaki blinked at her in surprise, evidently not expecting that particular question. For a brief moment she thought that he might gloss over the question entirely and instead scoot over to her and exclaim something to the effect of "Haruhi's worried about me!"

Instead, he took one hand from her lap and whispered, "Let me remind you, 'I'm me before I'm a Suou.'"

Haruhi finished for him, "And I'm proud of that."

However, from her tone, it wasn't clear who the "I" referred to because, at the use of that memorable phrase, she gave him one of her very rare smiles – calm and bright and genuine.

"Besides," he said, leaning in very close to her ear so that his words almost tickled and using the sultry tone from his days as the winner of more than 70 of the female population of Ouran Academy, "You've already fallen for me."

Annoyed at that particular characteristic phrase, she forced his head away from her with one hand. Frowning deeply she said with feigned disinterest, "You fell much harder."

He laughed, knowing that, coming from Haruhi, such a retort amounted to "You know I love you, idiot."

And, for once, Tamaki didn't even mind the "idiot" part.

----------------------

**End Part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

----------------------

The Main Suou mansion – and in making this distinction, Haruhi wondered just how many impossibly large dwellings a person could have – had a decidedly different feeling from Tamaki's home.

In fact, if Haruhi were to characterize the contrast between the two…_houses_…she thought that it would be something like the difference between Kyouya's and Tamaki's personalities…well, at least how they each acted when they were outside of the public eye…and even that only really applied to Kyouya.

They both, arguably, shared some similarities. But, at first glance, one of them looked and acted in a much more imposing manner.

Unfortunately, this seemed to be the mansion that embodied Kyouya's daunting persona the most – and she wasn't at all sure that it was only the façade of an imposing figure like the one she knew that the former Shadow King possessed in actuality.

She glanced over at Tamaki, whose eyes were wide in childlike wonderment at seeing the entirety (but again, Haruhi couldn't state that it was in fact the "entirety" with the level of accuracy that she deemed appropriate) of his familial heritage. And, Haruhi, despite her prior misgivings about his behavior, could never cease to admire him for not seeing it all as something that he had been forcibly denied.

In order to demonstrate this unspoken respect, she even indulged him as he pointed out one "admirable," "noble," and "exquisite triumph of aesthetic glory" after another as they drove the long way up the driveway to the main entrance. He continued to extol the building's virtues even as they left the car and began to walk the length of the rather expansive flagstone pathway to the actual entrance of the mansion.

At this point, Haruhi firmly decided that flagstones, heels, and expansive gesturing were quite possibly the worst combination ever…and even as she thought this, she felt the heel catch in a sizable gap between two of the stones and promptly sprawled forward directly into the entrance hall (the butler there opened the door _very_ hastily) and fortunately for her, was caught by someone.

She looked up, knowing that – from the sputtering that she heard somewhere behind her – it hadn't been Tamaki who had saved her from a near face first sprawl into the polished Suou marble. No, she looked up to find the grinning face of the man who would soon be her father-in-law.

"Ah," he crooned in a tone that was just short of gloating, "I seem to have caught a jewel that my silly son has neglected."

"F-f-f-f-father!"

Tamaki's protests were generally ignored as Haruhi was pulled to her feet again in one fancifully flamboyant gesture. As soon as she was upright again, Tamaki's father then captured Haruhi's hand and planted a kiss on it, suavely asking, "How in my cute future daughter-in-law this fine evening?"

Haruhi was luckily saved the trouble of answering (in what would have most likely been a blunt and slightly rude manner anyway) the playful inquiry by Tamaki's sudden flailing and physical efforts to push his father away from "his" Haruhi.

When some witticism or another from Yuzuru had once again sent Tamaki to crouch behind some expensive piece of statuary or other, Haruhi took the opportunity to bow politely to the head of the Suou family and say, with her best brand of hosting cheerfulness, "I'd like to thank you, Chairman, for your part in our invitation."

"Chairman?" He chuckled and then assumed a very erect stance, jabbing a finger in her direction, "Call me 'Father'!"

Haruhi should have realized by now that, one way or another, she would never escape that annoying joke…it must be firmly ingrained in the Suou blood somewhere.

Assuming an air of dignity, her future father-in-law continued on.

"And, in regards to the invitation, Haruhi-chan," here he cast a significant look over to his son, who was now being observed by one or two confused and almost disdainful servants, "you may thank my mother for _that_ entirely."

He gave her a serious look that so contrasted his previous demeanor that not even Haruhi could find it difficult to miss the import of the phrase.

"But," he finished, his glib speech resuming, " I am sure that she will be delighted at the presence of my lovely blossom of a daughter."

And, as he moved to put his arm around her, Tamaki finally noticed the interaction and, with lightning fast movements, leaped up and yanked Haruhi away from his father's grasp in a rather violent way, causing the offending arm to instead fall around nothing but empty air. He was then greeted by not only an annoyed and rather insulting remark from Haruhi, but also with a "tsk, tsk" from his father and a lecture concerning the bruising of the delicate flowers that are young maidens.

Haruhi just wondered how on earth she would be able to survive for any length of time between the two.

In a surprisingly uneventful – though it was frequently punctuated with plenty of bickering between the two males at either side of her – stroll through the palatial labyrinth of the house, they finally arrived at a colossal set of polished double doors. She noticed that strangely, Yuzuru grew increasingly quiet (she wished she could say the same for his son) as they advanced farther into the house. In front of them stood two elderly men in smart, crisp tuxedos that stood at almost military attention, much as she assumed the guards at Buckingham Palace that she had read about would do.

Everything here seemed so stiff when compared to the frivolous staff at Suou #2.

Yuzuru placed a hand on her shoulder and stated in a calm, almost wary voice, "One of these gentleman will escort you in. Fujioka-san," she realized that he was affecting a more serious demeanor for the benefit of the figures in front of them, "Mother will meet you as soon as your presence is announced."

Despite his solemn speech, out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn that she saw him wink…and quite frankly, she wouldn't be in the least bit surprised.

"You," he said, pointing suddenly to his son and adopting quite a different tone, "are coming with me because," he tucked his arms behind his back and strode by a rather shocked Tamaki, "my very foolish boy is _my_ dinner guest."

Tamaki threw a look at his fiancé that greatly resembled that of a kicked puppy.

"Haruhi!" he whined.

She looked at him blankly and, taking the melon from him, shrugged and stated, "You'll survive."

His father chuckled at the exchange before (quite literally) dragging Tamaki off.

For the first time since early that day, Haruhi found herself without the help of any of the (vaguely) comforting presences of her friends.

The men in front of the door bowed deeply and with a demure murmur of, "Fujioka-sama," opened the heavy double doors. She walked in, not at all impressed by the display, as she was focusing on walking in her accursed shoes.

Inside yet another large foyer, she found a very severe looking woman – most likely Shima's counterpart here at the main mansion – clad in a very traditional kimono.

"This way, Fujioka-sama" she said briskly, with a curt wave for her to follow. Then, eyeing the melon with a touch of disdain she added, "and you may leave…_that_…in my keeping."

Haruhi merely blinked as the woman took the host's gift from her and passed it off to another shadowy maid who disappeared as silently as she had come.

The unnamed usher then led her down a long hall. Out of sheer amazement at the excess, Haruhi had started to count the doors, knowing that each led off to at least some other room or even an infinite chain of rooms. This house was by far the largest she had ever been in, all members of the Host Club's own mansions included.

Passing several more doors and statues and glittering chandeliers, Haruhi cynically wondered if perhaps she should have left bread crumbs or something so that she would be able to find her way out of the enormous place again.

For many twists and turns her guide had been rather silent, however suddenly she spoke again.

"You will be dining in the Murasaki room with Suou-sama," she pulled up a sleeve to reveal an expensive watch, "we were expecting you promptly at 7:00."

Haruhi looked at her own watch and saw that it was now 7:18. Lowering her head, she mumbled in a way that did not seem very apologetic at all, "I apologize for the inconvenience."

In a haughty gesture, the older woman slightly nodded her head to indicate that the apology had been acknowledged.

They finally halted at a single door, surrounded on either side by two – ridiculous in Haruhi's opinion – alabaster statues of some Greek goddess or another…Venus? Diana?...either way, Haruhi didn't find that she cared too awfully much. Her guide paused at the door to take out a small key and then, with a flourish of sleeves, she opened it and bowed shallowly and very stiffly as a sign that Haruhi should come in.

As soon as she was inside, the woman left the room and closed the doors behind her with a soft _click!_ of the door being locked once again. However, in the further game of rich and lavish Ping-Pong, she found yet another servant – another tuxedo clad gentleman – who showed her to her seat at a table meant for thirty people and set only for two. Haruhi saw, with a bit of annoyance that they were at an unreasonable distance apart for any sort of…_conversation_.

However, knowing what she did about Tamaki's grandmother, she wasn't entirely ready to discount that as a completely bothersome detail.

And, waiting there in the heavy silence, all the more weighty due to the glittering veneer it had, Haruhi was struck by an exceedingly ironic thought…

All the pomp and swirling around of innumerable servants, the long and seemingly pointless walk through the house, the crisp and expensive clothes, and overly cultured manners were all like another absurd special parade.

That wasn't to say that it, other than very superficially, bore any resemblance to the absurd Host Club special parades she'd had to endure throughout her high school festivals for three years. It had all the extravagant excess and none of the almost noble motives.

This type of parade neither entertained nor benefited anyone.

And, although at the head of this frivolous affair was a Suou – _the_ Suou if there ever was one, in fact – the bothersome spectacle was played out with a cunning self-consciousness that Haruhi knew Tamaki couldn't and wouldn't ever exercise.

It struck her as almost funny that she realized this was the first time that she would be meeting a _genuine_ rich bastard.

At that moment, she decided that she would somehow manage to ask – without actually _asking_ them, of course, because explanations were bothersome – all of the old members of the Host Club over for hot pot sometime. She even generously decided that she would use more meat (than usual).

This way she would also avoid their suffocating, overly affectionate thanks for her efforts…well, except for from Tamaki. But Haruhi took this as a given that such gestures of emotion were an unfortunate reality for him…and she didn't mind them much anymore anyways.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening once more.

A train of figures entirely dressed in black uniforms filed in and moved to hide themselves in the far reaches of the massive room – Haruhi dimly remembered their presence at a long ago school festival – followed by the shrunken figure of the Suou Matriarch herself.

Tamaki's grandmother did not, at first glance, have the same overt severity that the mansion's head usher had had, but still, when the old woman entered (Haruhi, for some unknown reason, found herself rising) she couldn't help but feel her _presence_.

Haruhi found that the woman simply exuded a sense of command and, very subtly, the pronounced aura of a person who was simply disgusted with something.

Continuing on with the sense of pomp and excessive formality that had thus far marked Haruhi's visit, the old woman bowed and curtly introduced herself. Haruhi returned the gesture with as much formality as she could muster while knowing the actual tenor of the event. They both took their seats.

For a few moments, there was a pervasive silence as _hors d'œuvres _were served. Haruhi would have found them…to be delicious….if not for the fact that Tamaki's grandmother's gaze on her caused a prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

As much as she hated to admit it, Haruhi couldn't help but feel as if she was some nasty bug that was being looked at under a microscope. But, in order to escape any sort of troublesome conversation, she remained quiet and sampled the rich dishes given to her in what might have looked, to anyone who didn't know her mannerisms, to be polite deference.

After the silent first course had been served and a chilled soup brought out for the second, the old woman finally spoke.

"I suppose you are wondering why you were invited here, Fujioka-san."

Haruhi caught onto the implication that she shouldn't be here otherwise and wanted to answer "not particularly" in her normal blunt manner, but between hosting and her training as a lawyer, she managed to give a politely indifferent answer that neither affirmed nor denied the question.

The Suou Matriarch's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly before she continued, "I'll have you know that it was my foolish son's wish not to have a formal _miai_(1) due to your long…_relationship_…with" there was a calculating pause, "his son."

Feeling an annoyed twitch at the way she even handled speaking about Tamaki, Haruhi nodded in what she hoped would be a non-committal fashion. It was a good thing that her education at Ouran had conditioned her to being inconvenienced by rich people…

"So," she continued, seemingly marking her silence, "I have arranged to meet you in a fashion that I hope you will find fitting, Fujioka-san."

"I am…honored to receive your invitation, Suou-san," she replied formally.

A choked noise echoed from one of the far-flung corners of the room at her form of address.

There was a barely noticeable halt in conversation before Tamaki's grandmother simply responded, "I see."

The women finished the second course in a stubborn silence with a polite veneer.

At the end, Haruhi's hostess calmly waved to one of her ever-present attendants. With a nod and a reply of "yes, Suou-sama," they left and returned with a silver tray. There was a conspicuous absence of any of the rich food on it

Instead, there were two crisp leaflets of documents printed on a very high grade of paper. This, Haruhi somehow knew, would be the end of the social niceties…not that she was found the old woman…or anyone else in the mansion…very nice at all to begin with.

"Fujioka-san," she drawled, fingering through the pages of the top stack of papers. Haruhi guessed that this was probably the report of a private investigator she had hired in the tradition of a formal _miai_, "You seem to have a very interesting background, indeed."

Every inflection of her voice was refined and even.

"However," she drew her withered lips into a smile that contained no semblance of mirth, "I don't believe that will be a problem."

Haruhi knew very well – ironically, mostly from her early dealings with Kyouya – that she was intimating that there was very much a problem with her background…a problem that wasn't in the least open for debate or discussion. She flipped a few more pages in the packet over.

"However, despite your disadvantageous background, as a compliment to your _stature_, you seem to have overcome the _inconveniences_ inherent in your upbringing…on an _anonymous_ scholarship you managed to graduate first in your class at Tokyo University…"

Despite the pretty words, Haruhi couldn't say that she felt complimented in the least. Yuzuru, and by proxy, Tamaki, _had_ inherited an aspect of their gift with words from the old woman, but Tamaki's grandmother definitely had none of their almost overflowing sincerity. Normally, Haruhi wouldn't let the thinly veiled insult stand, but she wasn't here to defend herself…and it didn't appear that the old woman across the table would allow her to.

Part of her decided that she owed it to Tamaki – really, for the sheer number of times that her father had quite literally walked all over him – to not give the troublesome woman her actual thoughts on the matter.

She decided to think of it as merely another waltz at another dance party, and Haruhi, despite her _unique_ training was not leading at the moment.

Even if she had wanted to, she could not have said anything because the old woman continued on, picking up another thick packet of papers gingerly, with the ghost of some sort of satisfaction, and said, "my son tells me that you are a fine lawyer."

Haruhi answered that she was a lawyer, but didn't know about the "fine" part. She was beginning to feel more and more as if she was in court at the moment…but she most definitely wasn't the lawyer.

"Indeed," Tamaki's grandmother flipped another page in the rather ample packet, "the Ootori Group, both branches of Hitachiin Enterprises, the Suzushima import company, and even – interestingly – the Nekozawa Corporation, all had exceedingly positive recommendations of your work."

The old woman pursed her lips and lifted her head to look at Haruhi.

"Quite an impressive résumé for a woman whose primary area is non-profit welfare work."

Blinking, Haruhi didn't know if this was a compliment or not, however, she doubted that it actually was considering the person who gave it. She thought, with more than a touch of annoyance, that it would almost be a miracle if there was an actual woman behind the pretenses.

So, in response, she merely gave a stilted, "Thank you."

Then, suddenly the interview changed gears with a wave of her wrinkled hand.

A servant, bowing slightly to her employer, picked up the tray and silently brought one of the packets of papers over and set it in front of Haruhi. Much to her own chagrin, Haruhi found that she couldn't help but be curious at the odd gesture.

Mostly because it seemed to be the cue for an entire other _series_ of events. As soon as the tray touched the table in front of her, another maid came in and consulted in a low voice with one of the butlers, who, in turn, strolled over and bowed to the Suou Matriarch before whispering something in her ear.

The old woman nodded at him, as if it was expected, and during the entire bustle of starched uniforms, she did not take her eyes off of Haruhi as the significance of the document that was handed to her dawned on her.

"Fujioka-san," she said in a deceptively calm voice, "I have been informed that, most unfortunately, there was a small incident in the kitchen that will somewhat delay the arrival of the main course."

She gave a delicate cough and adjusted the sleeves of her kimono.

With increasingly strained politeness and a growing air of confusion, Haruhi found herself responding, "Uh, it's really not an inconvenience."

Even if the courses that had been served to her were, in her own opinion, delicious, thus far the meeting hadn't left her with an inordinately large appetite and the document sitting next to her annihilated any lingering hunger that she may have had.

She didn't think that even ootoro would be capable of reviving it because, for completely mystifying reasons, Tamaki's grandmother had handed her a copy of her own will.

"Now, Fujioka-san," her voice was still flat and calm, "I hope it won't be too presumptuous to ask that, in the lull that has unexpectantly developed, that you might attend to an article of business for me."

The placid looking woman reminded her of what the Hitachiin's mother had warned her about the first time she had accepted (well, been dragged by the combined efforts of Hikaru, Kaoru, and two of their maids) one of their dinner invitations.

"Careful what lurks in the brains of those two," the twins' mother had said, wagging a finger at her and winking, "When their faces look the dullest they're at their most dangerous."

Haruhi already had known this well before, but ever since then, the phrase had become a kind of adage and inside joke for the "friendly classmate trio" which, of course, irritated Tamaki to no end.

Unfortunately, at the moment, looking into her hostess' face, she found nothing whatsoever amusing about it…between the woman and her will, it was frighteningly applicable.

"I apologize, Suou-san," she replied, her patience with the unnecessary spectacle fraying and her tone taking on more of its characteristic bluntness, "I didn't realize that we would be discussing business matters."

She waved a hand.

"It's really only a trivial matter, and then we shall assume or previous conversation," Haruhi didn't think either option sounded particular enticing, "But I would really find it helpful if someone – a lawyer – of your caliber looked over some alterations I have just made in my will."

She made a gesture with her hand, bidding her to open the packet before her.

"I believe the passages of interest are on page eighty three…clause two."

Haruhi flipped through the pages with clearly visible irritation and looked at the parts that Tamaki's grandmother had mentioned.

The section began, "Concerning Suou Tamaki – "

Haruhi's well-trained eyes noted that the name had no context.

The names up until this point had been marked with labels that distinguished how each of the beneficiaries related to the Suou Matriarch. There was "Board Chair Matsumoto," "My son, Suou Yuzuru," and "Dear friend Yamazaki Sayako"…but Tamaki remained only a floating name.

But that certainly was only the beginning of the anomalies. Whereas the rest of the will's beneficiaries had multiple clauses and provisions, Tamaki only had one…contingent upon two conditions.

The conditions instantly made Haruhi forget about maintaining what little social propriety that she still possessed.

"In order to secure the position of heir to the legal holdings and property of the Suou Estate detailed in Article I, Clauses 1 – 358, following the death of my son, Suou Yuzuru, Suou Tamaki must comply with the following stipulations:

i. Strict compliance to the prior agreement set forth in the appended Article 32 is required."

Haruhi had just arrived at the mysterious "Document 32" and began to read and understand the article's significance when the older woman interjected, "Do you find anything objectionable, Fujioka-san?"

Haruhi remained reading the document that legalized the separation of Tamaki from his mother rendered in the phrases "herein by referred to as," "in so far as compliance with the terms," and "provided that the secondary party."

Turning back to the will's original stipulations, Haruhi responded in the tone that she reserved for cross-examination, "I can find nothing _legally_ objectionable."

At this response, the older woman's eyebrows rose.

Haruhi re-read the clauses again to assure herself just _how_ vindictive the woman was.

But the words "The above mentioned beneficiary's state of inheritance shall additionally be contingent upon my direct and explicit approval of the party's choice of spouse" as well as the presence of "Document 32" remained a reality.

Satisfied in her assessment of the woman's character, Haruhi returned the stack of papers to the tray and stiffly rose, ignoring the butler that immediately rushed to her side to perform whatever assistance she required. All of the black figures – most likely trained bodyguards – tensed as she approached the Suou Matriarch and returned the tray to her with little ceremony before plopping back down in her seat.

She then did something that few people in her position would have dared.

Haruhi unflinchingly met the old woman's eyes and stated frankly, "You're wrong."

The normally imperturbable head of the Suou Empire showed uncharacteristic surprise at what she saw as the pure _gall_ of her guest.

"Tamaki doesn't care about any of this. It doesn't matter to him what you do to him."

There was a hanging, pregnant silence. Haruhi thought she heard the nasty woman's rasping breath

"I see that _he_ has already spoken to you about me and influenced your opinion prior to my intervention."

Haruhi looked down at her clenched hands. Her knuckles were white. Somehow she kept her voice steady as she responded.

"The first time I saw you with him, I thought I saw," she took a deep breath and continued deliberately, "a soap opera."

The Suou Matriarch's expression darkened at this uncouth appraisal. There was a swell of whispering among the assembled staff that was very soon quelled.

"But Tamaki cried because he thought he had upset _you_. But then," the silence about her was ringing, "he told me that you were a beautiful woman."

Both women held each other's gaze as if they were equally steeled to some purpose.

The wrinkled mask of her face showed a momentary crack but, with age, comes an innate sense of steely self-control. She frowned and stated, "He's still a fool."

Haruhi frowned and said, quite seriously - much to the surprise of the assembled audience - "Yeah, a lot of the time."

"But," she continued, "although he's troublesome, he's a good, admirable man."

Tamaki's grandmother let out a derisive snore and spat out, "Admirable? The fool wants nothing more than to gallivant wherever he pleases and sleep around with whatever pretty face he finds." Haruhi's gaze steeled even more, "It's in his blood."

Looking down at her plate, she decided that it was useless – especially in light of the slight to Tamaki's mother – to even attempt to bite back her anger, The loathing she felt for the woman across the table from her rested in the pit of her stomach like a heavy weight.

Tamaki deserved so much better than this woman…even if he didn't curse his own fate and he didn't care…_she_ did. Her thoughts clearly stood out in her increasingly cold expression.

"You don't like me."

Haruhi nodded. The other woman's expression was blank and incalculable…in Haruhi's mind, it contained a bit of perverse amusement.

"I don't like you and I don't see why that matters. It doesn't even matter if you like _me_ or not. I can't help what you've already decided," Haruhi continued in a cold voice, "but, as your grandchild, Tamaki has your blood, too."

The old woman's eyes narrowed at the impertinent reminder. Haruhi didn't care.

"And he's a fool because he wants to make everyone happy – including those who don't deserve it from him – and I admire that."

She stood up, causing the black suited figures in the room to become uneasy again.

"You can disinherit him – that isn't my decision – but Tamaki is Tamaki. He'll still be your grandchild regardless and that won't change because you sign a piece of paper. In fact, if you'd just smile genuinely at him once, he'd forgive you, because that's all _he_ wants and…that's all _I_ want from him," the other woman looked livid at this indictment, "But you have never taken the time to learn that."

She paused to let the words sink in before adding, quietly and in a much different tone, "Tamaki will always be Tamaki…and neither of us can change that."

The defense of Suou Tamaki rested and Haruhi walked to the door.

One of the butlers hurried to unlock it and tried to open it in frazzled uncertainty, however, Haruhi simply opened it herself and went out, determined to ask directions out of the ridiculous labyrinth from one of the maids. She would wait outside for Tamaki.

But, she decided she wouldn't apologize for anything that she had said. Haruhi never apologized to anyone for telling the truth.

Haruhi stripped off her uncomfortable shoes and walked down the broad corridor in search of a maid. At that moment she deiced that Suou #1 was filled with far too much excess for its own good.

Tamaki, in her opinion, didn't need all of that anyway.

----------------------

The heavy door closing marked the end of the dinner like a punctuation mark.

As if responding to a prompt, unspoken cue, a cart rolled out – suspiciously carrying only a single serving of food. The maid who pushed it bowed with a respectful "Suou-sama" and placed the plate in front of her mistress and proceeded to pour her a glass of red wine.

Haughtily, she picked up the glass, and with a perfunctory swirl and sniff, took a sip, ignoring the air of tension that still lingered in the room after her guest's departure.

"At least," she said very softly, addressing the contents of her wine glass before taking another sip, "you are not as much of a fool, Fujioka-san."

The old woman began to deliberately cut her meat in decisive fluid movements before spearing each small piece with her fork. She chewed on it pensively for a few moments before waving to the nearest servant and commanding impatiently, "Fetch my fool of a son here for me. If his foolish son is still with him, tell him that his fiancé should now be waiting for him somewhere near the main foyer."

She put another piece of meat in her mouth contemplating that, without the virtues of her distinguished blood and social refinement, she might have resembled that girl…If only that Fujioka-san didn't have such inescapably flawed taste in marriage prospects.

But at least she wasn't a complete fool. It was all that could be hoped for.

Then, more quietly than anyone could possibly hear, she mumbled with an edge of irritation, "Beautiful?...Hardly."

----------------------

Yuzuru entered the room, wary of what he might find there.

Unfortunately, he found that his cute daughter-in-law was no longer eating with his mother…or even in the room for that matter.

Perhaps she had – unfortunately for both Haruhi-chan and Tamaki – designed the event to proceed in that manner. It was, sadly, something that he had rather come to expect from his mother in matters concerning Tamaki.

As he entered, his mother did not so much as look up from her plate. She merely commanded, "Sit, Yuzuru."

He obeyed.

Seeing as she went on chewing a wad of meat and looking rather hard at a section of elaborately dressed table somewhere in front of her, Yuzuru found himself opening the conversation.

"How did you find Haruhi-chan, Mother?"

She frowned severely at the tone of endearment in his voice and remained stubbornly chewing for a while before finally answering.

"I found _Fujioka-san_ to be impertinent, rude, uncultured, and generally obnoxious."

She mopped her mouth was a dainty napkin.

_So_, Yuzuru thought with a touch of apprehension, _it did not go well at all_.

"However, for all her absolute failings in the social graces, she is not such a fool as your son – and he, perhaps, has…too many social graces," she took a sip of her wine, "their faults compliment each other nicely."

That, in Yuzuru's experience, was an interesting comment for his mother to make. It was about as complimentary of "undesirable elements" as she was likely to get.

And, with a gush of fatherly pride he noted that she had once again referred to Tamaki as his son rather than her customary epithets of "that fool" or "that idiotic boy" (He ignored the fact that it was his "foolish" son entirely). However, he didn't dare let his detection of this victory show.

Yuzuru knew much better than to do that.

"And, unfortunately," she gave him a chillingly severe look, "you have given me little in the way of heirs with which to work with."

"Mother-" he began defensively, rising from his seat slightly in an attempt to escape the old argument. She simply ignored him and went on.

"But," she said sharply, "Continuing on with the matter at hand, Fujioka-san can seemingly control your son's idiocy."

She let this comment hang as a challenge to him to disagree with her. It was the same old game of cat and mouse, it seemed.

Yuzuru, after a period, just stated in a dead serious tone, "I'll just have to control Haruhi-chan, then."

Giving him a penetrating look, after a brief moment, his mother gave him a curt nod of agreement that made Yuzuru want to laugh. In his experience, Fujioka Haruhi was as uncontrollable as Tamaki was in her own stubborn way.

It was sometimes beneficial that his mother forcibly blinded herself to certain details.

But, this conversation did make him wonder what exactly Haruhi had said to her, especially if his mother considered her to be "rude" and "obnoxious" among other things and yet somehow managed to unequivocally impress her as "not a fool." Quite an achievement indeed.

She, strangely still did not look at him directly. That surely meant that, after all these years she was finally conceding something.

"At least she's not the brainless French whore I'd thought he'd marry," Yuzuru stiffened in well-controlled indignation, "But make sure that you amend her background – particularly her rather unsavory father – for any press announcements. But, other than that, she'll have to do. Because, as you know, Yuzuru, carrying on the Suou name with as much dignity as is still possible is of the utmost importance."

Yuzuru took that to mean that what she was conceding wasn't, in her mind at least, due directly to either Tamaki or Haruhi. It was strictly a business arrangement to her.

But, Yuzuru had _also_ had enough skirmishes with her to on the same subject to know that the stubborn old woman wouldn't change her mind lightly…even if the decision represented the only way to carry on the Suou name in what she considered to be a diminished capacity.

He knew that he had tried that argument himself over the years more than once.

Maybe Haruhi had merely just said what everyone else was too bound by formality to say. From what he knew of the girl, she certainly would.

"So, Yuzuru," she said, looking somewhere off to a corner, "As long as that idiotic boy manages to keep a hold of Fujioka-san, I will confirm him as heir…because the only foolish thing about her is the fact that she loves your foolish son…and," she added as an afterthought, "the unsavory matter of her father."

She put an elbow on the table, a stance that clearly intimated that she was done with the present conversation.

"You're dismissed, Yuzuru."

Even if, after all these years she still addressed him as if he was some kind of toy poodle, it couldn't be said that he was unhappy to leave his mother's presence.

But, with a mischievous smile, he decided that he would keep the news from his sinfully handsome son and his oh-so-cute future daughter…just for a little while.

And, as a passing thought, he decided for himself that Ranka-san wasn't a discredit to Haruhi at all. He, in fact, seemed to have more control over Tamaki than even Haruhi did.

----------------------

Haruhi found that, in the world of rich bastards that she so often – and mostly rather unfortunately - in her own opinion – found herself in, she was always opening one door or another.

So far, even though she had asked directions from three different maids (and received odd stares as well, perhaps because she was now barefoot), she still found herself lost in the big house.

No, she firmly reminded herself, "big" wasn't even the half of it. Maybe large enough to house half the population of one – maybe even two – third world countries did it justice.

Currently, according to the last maid, she was now supposed to be looking for a door on the right that led her to some hallway that apparently led her down another hallway and into the entrance hall.

Such large places were definitely more troublesome than they were worth.

In her quest for her escape route, she had only found one music room, two linen closets, and a room with a few embarrassed maids looking over something that – from the very brief glance she got of it – reminded her of Renge's doujinshi. She had apologized and decided to knock first from then on.

Ever since blundering into the Third Music Room so many years ago, she knew that she should be cautious opening doors of any kind.

But, even with this is mind, she couldn't find the troublesome hallway. She passingly thought that, if Tamaki's grandmother had any security cameras (and if she knew these rich types at all, she most likely did) than she was probably amused that her _guest_ had walked out as she did.

At least, she mused with a vague sense of relief, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as that time that she had gotten lost in the Hitachiin Estate. _That_ had been nothing short of a humiliating experience.

She opened another door (revealing the single most impractically large broom closet that she had ever seen) when she heard a very familiar – and at this point, very welcome – cry of "Haruhi!"

Half in relief and half in residual annoyance, she turned around to find Tamaki literally bounding through a door farther up to her right and directly towards her. Remembering where he was, at the last moment, he stopped himself from delivering one of his bone crunching hugs and somehow slid into a somewhat graceful stop (how he managed this time and again Haruhi could never figure out) and, instead, dipped her into a quick embrace that resembled a flourish at the end of a waltz.

Whatever it was, Haruhi found it annoying. She found that she liked to be solidly upright unless her permission was given to be otherwise. However, he had such a look on his face that she stored away the comment she was about to make for another moment of annoyance.

Tamaki just looked so very_…happy_.

And, when he looked like that, not even Kyouya and his accounting book conscience could deny him what he wanted.

Tamaki's smile was nothing short of a force of nature.

Because Haruhi liked facts, she had been resigned to this long ago and now merely gave into it without pausing to think. Because, although she might never admit this to anyone, despite the somewhat troublesome results that smile often had, Haruhi wouldn't want him to lose it for the world.

"Haruhi," he whispered sensually with a strange thickening in his tone that usually meant that his incoherent imagination was at it again, "Did you miss your sinfully perfect fiancé and pine away for me in the excruciatingly long hours between our last ephemeral – though poignantly memorious – clandestine meeting in a bitter love-worn ecstasy of cruel, insatiable longing?"

"Tamaki-kun," she deadpanned in the wake of his verbal torrent, "the blood is rushing to my head."

He blinked at her uncomprehendingly. Much to Haruhi's chagrin, nothing was done to rectify the situation.

"Put me down."

Recognition dawned slowly on him before he hurriedly complied. When she was safely upright again, he changed tactics and slipped his arm around her back. After the stressful evening, Haruhi had to admit that his closeness (that is, when she was properly perpendicular to the floor) was comforting.

Finally, it occurred to her that he should still be in his dinner. With no pretense she asked, "What are you doing here anyways?"

An almost sly smile spread across his face and he replied, "Finding a little lost kitten," before touching a finger to her nose. She smacked it away in gentle annoyance.

"I would have found my way eventually," she grumbled.

He beamed at her, "I know, I just thought you'd like some company while you found it."

Haruhi made a dismissive noise and said, "Better than the company I've had today."

Although the comment would usually have sent him to mope in some corner in years past, he now just laughed, realizing that such blunt comments were simply a part of Haruhi.

Absently he commented, "Father says that Grandmother has been holding business meetings for too long."

"I think he's right."

He turned to her, the smile still on his face…but it seemed a bit blunted, as if a hint of something else lingered beneath it.

By now they had reached the door – which Tamaki gallantly opened for her – and began walking the length of the front path to the car.

"Tamaki, she may disinherit you for tonight."

He brushed the thought away like it was a mere fluttering rose petal. He didn't even ask her what she had said that could lead to this. But his smile had returned.

Giving her a significant look he said, "I have things that are more important than that."

Haruhi, being Haruhi, did not immediately comprehend his meaning.

"Because," she said, thinking it over for a moment, "You will always be Tamaki."

Before he could respond with either a rare short affirmative or a long unnecessary speech accompanied by flamboyant gestures that pointlessly used up more energy than Haruhi could even fathom having, she walked up and kissed him square on the lips – a gesture she rarely made even in private.

An innocent blush quickly spread across his cheeks. Somehow he managed to stammer a response.

"I will."

----------------------

**Fin**

1. _Miai_ – is a tradition that has to do with arranged marriages where a formal engagement is held between the two parties which is mediated by a neutral intermediary party – the one time I have heard of it occurring this party was a private detective. But since _miai_ takes place only in an arranged marriage and not in a love match, Tamaki's Grandmother has her own sort of denial going on…That and the _miai_ gives her firm control over the matter.

**A/N:**

I must say, this was the hardest piece I have ever written. Even though there's a fair degree of fluff in here and romantic interaction, that was by no means the point of the piece.

It all started with the idea that Haruhi actually meets Tamaki's Grandmother and sprouted uncontrollably from there.

In my head, I subtitle this piece "An Exercise in Exceedingly Odd Character Dynamics." And all throughout it are simply…strange…combinations of characters. The Kyouya and Haruhi interaction is strange because of the fine line each treads around the others….and to me, they have a pointedly distant but familiar at the same time…a bit more intimate look at the interaction they had at the mall. The Host Club minus Tamaki and Kyouya was hard to get anything actually done in…Tamaki and Kyouya move a fair degree of the plot, which is why things only got underway with Hikaru imitating Tamaki's commander routine.

Suou-sama was just all around difficult…with Haruhi, especially, and with Yuzuru as well.

And…I always find convincing romantic interaction between Haruhi and Tamaki…really, Haruhi and _anyone_ because of her personality to be difficult to capture.

However, in case anyone is wondering why I didn't go for the all out happy ending where Tamaki becomes heir and everything works out nicely…I didn't think it was necessary. That is an agenda important to Tamaki's grandmother…and while it is a factor for them, it is by no means the most important thing. I, in fact, thought that the all happy shiny ending would have a more hollow ring to it…perhaps, however, you are not of my opinion…and that is perfectly valid.

But, thanks to elvaron (with a little help from Yuzuru), Tamaki was not disinherited as usual. 3 See it's happy and he has his inheritance! world crumbles and falls down

Anyways, all that said, I hope you enjoyed! And, even more so than usual, comments will be most appreciated…and will be answered (via review reply, sorry anons!) as per the usual.

Love!


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